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           Theknowledgewastoodisturbing,really.Therewas“somethingwrong”withavengeance,andthemoralcertitudeofitwasatfirstsimplyfrightfultocontemplate.Sternehadbeenlookingaftinamoodsoidle,thatforoncehewasthinkingnoharmofanyone.Hiscaptainonthebridgepresentedhimselfnaturallytohissight.Howinsignificant,howcasualwasthethoughtthathadstartedthetrainofdiscovery—likeanaccidentalsparkthatsufficestoignitethechargeofatremendousmine!

           Caughtunderbythebreeze,theawningsoftheforedeckbelliedupwardsandcollapsedslowly,andabovetheirheavyflappingthegraystuffofCaptainWhalley’sroomycoatflutteredincessantlyaroundhisarmsandtrunk.Hefacedthewindinfulllight,withhisgreatsilverybeardblownforciblyagainsthischest;theeyebrowsoverhungheavilytheshadowswhencehisglanceappearedtobestaringaheadpiercingly.Sternecouldjustdetectthetwingleamofthewhitesshiftingundertheshaggyarchesofthebrow.Atshortrangetheseeyes,foralltheman’saffablemanner,seemedtolookyouthroughandthrough.Sternenevercoulddefendhimselffromthatfeelingwhenhehadoccasiontospeakwithhiscaptain.Hedidnotlikeit.Whatabigheavymanheappearedupthere,withthatlittleshrimpofaSerangincloseattendance—aswasusualinthisextraordinarysteamer!Confoundedabsurdcustomthat.Heresentedit.Surelytheoldfellowcouldhavelookedafterhisshipwithoutthatloafingnativeathiselbow.Sternewriggledhisshoulderswithdisgust.